Margret In Progress

It was a windy night.  The kind that blew right through you.  But damn if it didn't keep blowing my dress up.  This just never comes up as a concern when I wear one but I'll be sworn and sure pay attention to local weather conditions from now on.

Margret (that's me), doesn't that just sound like an appropriate name right now?  Well, it (the wind)  kept blowing the branches of the tree against the windows.  But, then the shadows they cast on the wall started to take on a little too much resemblance to shadows of other things.  And they were.  They were the nightmares vying for time in Margret's sleep when she got there.  Pleasant dreams are never violent or strange enough to make it to the front lines of recollection.  That tier of of exclusiveness is reserved for the absurd, and bad.

Not remembering how you've come to be in a dream of such sorts will produce one of two responses.  If you actually happen to come by that question in a dream, you will know, or possibly someday learn, neither of them are pleasant.

But at this time in particular, she was not having a bad dream, but an absurd one, so the trauma factor was minimal.  However the "wtf" factor was considerable.  As she sailed across the placid waters of the crystal sea guided by the magical, and gilded nail file, to lands unknown, she thought, "This would be a stupid book."

Why couldn't she of had one of those dreams instead with the fascinating architecture and interior design.  The environments of story.  She fancied those, and luckily they were a common feature in slumbering wonderings.   Days, at the least, weeks to be honest, she had been spending all her time sleeping.  She was experiencing a rash of particularly vivid dreams again, and each time, their realness hooked her like a drug.  And right now she was an addict searching for another dream. 

Sure, there were some duds you'd stumble upon like the last one. And, some that would out right be shit, like the one where you were an "expendable" in desperate search of escape from a regime set on exterminating you.  Or the one where you were paralyzed on a white, wrought iron, lounge chair in the garden, along with other women in the same eventuality.  And as you lay there, a pretty blonde nurse with the classic updo and white, smock dress attended to each of you and administered IVs.  You could feel the drugs burning through your veins and you couldn't even scream.  But every now and then you'd catch something special.  You'd watch the dream like the story in an old movie feature with credits and flaws in the film and everything.  You'd live a lifetime and learn things you'd never thought of.  You'd go places you'd never forget.  Why, you might even return to such a place in another dream only to experience the wonder again.

As Margaret got up to refill her glass of wine and pop a couple more sleeping pills, the walls sat back and wondered when this phase would pass, and when the new one would come...and what it would entail.  As the walls saw it, Margret's life resembled more a series of episodes.  Episodes that continued to run long after the show should have been cancelled.



Watch Margret's Progress on:   http://www.authorsden.com/visit/viewwork.asp?AuthorID=168797&id=56257

Put your PAWS UP!!!

And your CLAWS OUT!  Sometimes those everyday little slights against us committed by others just are too much and you can't help but say or do something. 

For instance, this buggy of old women (a Toyota Camry in beige) spent FIVE MINUTES backing out of, and then pulling into, a parking space.  I was stuck there while they tried to remember what they were doing.  So after the 5th minute I yell out the window, "Just park the car you old bitch.  Cars are backing up while you try and figure your business out."  I'll be damned if one grandma didn't actually get out of the car and try to make something in it.  I thought she was going to slash my tires.

Or for example, say you're at the movie theater and you just happen to be in one of those pissed off moods, with everyone in general.  A couple approaching has that annoying aura about them you just can't bear to suffer the next 2 hours, even in the dark.  When the girl asks you if they can sit next you, you flat out tell her the truth.  "Sure, but let us switch seats because I don't think I can handle sitting next to you through the whole movie." 

And then perhaps, maybe at another movie, some kid old enough to know better (we're talking 11 or 12 here) has been crawling all over the bars and using his "outdoor voice" the whole movie.  The movie is at it's climax.  His grandmother does nothing   And before you know you've said it.  "Can it, Pork Chop!," and are then looking around with the rest of the crowd to see who said it. Then my Dad and I looked just looked at each other in the theater and didn't say anything.  As soon as we got out to the car though, he was gone laughing.

Lord knows we have to take it in the ass a lot of the time dealing with people in this world, so sometimes, when you've just had enough, go ahead and treat yourself.  Say something instead of being miserable and tight-lipped. 

Pleading For Release

I was in the middle of doing one of those things that takes just 5 minutes, so come on, but I could hear the pleading in the poor puppy's voice.  She didn't have 5 minutes to wait anymore and she needed to go now.  She was in such a rush to get out the door that I almost forgot her leash.  So, it surprised me when she came to a halt as I bent down to hook on her leash thinking to myself, "Oh, wouldn't this just be a perfect times for one of 'those' things to happen."  I don't know what I was expecting, but one of "those" things happened.

I looked up, and silently in the sky was a void.  It was about 2cm wide in the sky and was a dense mass of impenetrable black in the shape of a teardrop on its side in the middle of a clear, blue sky.  And it was moving as fast as if it were a fly passing the t.v. screen.

How do you handle something like that?  I need someone to tell me because I really need to know...